And the Bride Wore Black

‘Oh, you would have, Fabia,’ he said quietly without looking at her. ‘You would have.’ There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his voice.

She bit back the hot angry words hovering on her tongue with enormous self-control, realising that at this moment in time he needed all his energy and concentration if they were to make the little inn safely, let alone his grandmother’s home.

When they drew into the tiny space in the car park that wasn’t covered by mountainous powdery drifts she sighed audibly with relief. ‘Thank goodness. I didn’t think we’d make it this far back there.’

He glanced at her in surprise, his light brown eyes with their thick lashes enquiring. ‘You didn’t? But there was no problem.’ His face was calm and relaxed.

‘No problem?’ She stared at him. He seemed even closer now that the engine was stilled and she was conscious of the delicious male smell of aftershave on clean taut skin.

‘No problem at all,’ he repeated softly, turning in his seat and sliding one arm at the back of her shoulders. ‘In the unlikely event that the car should break down I’d carry you to safety. I wouldn’t let any harm come to you. Do you believe that?’ She sensed he was asking her more than the surface question his words held, and for a moment in time she let her eyes be held by the hypnotic power of his tawny gaze before turning abruptly away, lowering her head so that the silky mass of her hair hid her face from his piercing eyes. He was too close, too...knowing.

‘No, I don’t think I do,’ she said shakily, annoyed to hear the tremor in her voice. If she could hear it, so could he.

‘I hope one day you will,’ he said softly, so softly that she could barely hear him. She didn’t look up and after a moment he opened his door and walked round the car to her side, stopping her as she made to climb out. ‘Wait.’ Before she realised what he was about to do he had bent down and scooped her out of the warm interior as though she were a small child, straightening with her in his arms and kicking the door shut with his foot.

‘Alex! Put me down.’ Her voice wasn’t as indignant as she would have liked it to be. The feel of his arms about her and the hard strong face just an inch from her own was doing crazy things to her insides, and he was holding her so tightly.

‘Why?’ He smiled down at her lazily as the snowflakes fell into the tawny brown richness of his hair. ‘You don’t want wet feet, do you?’ He brushed his lips against the silk of her hair.

Wet feet were the least of her worries at this moment in time, Fabia reflected faintly as he began to walk with her towards the small arched pub door. It felt deceptively good to be held close to his heart like this, deceptive because the rich promise of his big body and strong arms wouldn’t be worth the price she would have to pay ultimately. When it ended. As it inevitably would.

He’s not Robin, a little voice whispered tantalisingly in her head as they reached the snow-covered steps leading to the pub door, but the other voice was stronger, the voice that said coldly and quite dispassionately that she was here providing a service, for a time. He hadn’t even tried to lie about that. She was an available commodity hired for a specific purpose and when her wor

k was done he would dispatch her back into her own life without another thought. Just like Robin. They came from a different world, these wealthy, spoilt men, a world where they spoke and it was done. She had to remember that, had to!

‘There we are.’ He set her down just outside the door and leant over her to push it open, his snow-covered coat brushing against her face. ‘In you go.’

The warmth and colour of a blazing log fire at one end of the small room reached out to greet them as they entered and almost immediately a large, burly red-faced giant of a man appeared from a small passageway to one side of the bar. ‘Didn’t expect anyone to venture out tonight,’ he began jovially, his face breaking into a grin as he saw who his customers were. ‘Why, it’s Mr Cade, isn’t it? Come down for the Christmas break, sir? You picked the right day for it!’

‘Didn’t I just, George,’ Alex returned easily with a warm smile. ‘Meet Miss Grant. Come to keep me company in case I get lonely.’ He turned to Fabia with a wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘Isn’t that right, sweetheart?’

She looked at him hard for a moment, disliking the innuendo, and then smiled carefully. ‘Anything you say, o lord and master. I’m yours to command.’ She curtsied prettily, her eyes cold.

George laughed cheerfully in the background, his rough face frankly envious. ‘Been trying to get the missus to say that for years,’ he said as he began polishing a tray of glasses standing to one side of the ancient till. ‘You’ll have to let me know your secret some time, Mr Cade.’

Alex smiled at the man as he took Fabia’s arm, drawing her over towards the seat by the fire, but she could sense he hadn’t liked her little act. It was there in the tightening of his hard jaw and the grip of his fingers on her flesh. ‘What would you like to drink? A glass of water?’ His smile had a twist in it that she didn’t miss, and she glanced up at him defiantly as she sat down, her eyes fiery and her back stiff.

‘Anything; I don’t mind. They don’t do hot drinks, do they?’ She shivered as the heat from the fire warmed her cold face. ‘I’d love a cup of coffee or hot chocolate.’

‘Your wish is my command, o favoured one,’ he said softly. ‘Who can refuse the favourite of the harem anything?’

She looked up at him warily, her eyes rebellious. ‘You started that, Alex,’ she said hotly, her face tight. ‘Insinuating to that man that I was here as your...your...’

‘My what?’ His face was genuinely puzzled. ‘You’re supposed to be down here as my girlfriend, for crying out loud, aren’t you?’

‘You didn’t make it sound like that,’ she said quickly. ‘Not your girlfriend, more...something else.’

‘Like hell I did,’ he said flatly, his eyes narrowing. ‘If any of your other boyfriends had made a remark like that you would have taken it in the spirit it was meant. It was a joke, just a casual everyday joke. You really have got quite a chip on your shoulder where I’m concerned, haven’t you? What is it about me, Fabia—my wealth, the lifestyle, my physical appearance? What is it that reminds you so much of him?’

‘I’ve never said there was a him,’ she said coldly, ‘and even if there were it’s none of your business. You’ve asked me to do a job and that’s what I’m here for. That doesn’t give you the right to pry into my personal life.’

‘No, you’re dead right,’ he said icily as he straightened up away from her, his face stony. ‘But when you let your personal life interfere with the work in hand it becomes my business, and that’s exactly what you’re doing. I don’t care whether you like me or not but we might as well get it clear now that I won’t tolerate snide remarks and sarcasm for a week. I meant nothing by what I said and whether you believe me or not you’re going to have to accept that. I’ve no intention of watching everything I say for the next few days in case you take offence. Got it?’ He marched over to the bar before she could reply and she sat where she was, cheeks burning and hands clenched in impotent rage.

As her cheeks cooled along with her anger she was forced to admit to herself, albeit reluctantly, that he did have a point. She wouldn’t have taken umbrage at the remark from anyone else, it was true. She eyed him with distinct irritation as he stood talking to George at the bar. She was in the wrong, again! Why do you have to be so altogether perfect? she thought balefully as she stared at him across the room. And why can you read me like a book? She suddenly wished with all her heart that she hadn’t agreed to this crazy idea. She should have let him do his worst, let him unleash his anger—anything rather than be with him like this. She was standing on the edge of a precipice and it felt as if she were blindfolded.

‘One cup of coffee.’ As he placed the steaming cup in front of her she blinked and realised with a start that she hadn’t seen him cross the room. ‘Dreaming?’ He smiled slowly, the cold anger of a few minutes before seemingly evaporated.

‘I’m sorry, Alex.’ She spoke quickly before she lost her nerve. ‘I was being touchy. I can see you didn’t mean anything in what you said.’ She touched his arm in a gesture of apology.